


The Outsiders

by JeanZedlav



Category: The Lion Guard (TV), The Lion King (1994), The Lion King II: Simba's Pride
Genre: Character Death, Gen, Lion King Worldbuilding, Original Characters - Freeform, POV Alternating, Past Dub-con Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-05-29 09:00:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15069734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeanZedlav/pseuds/JeanZedlav
Summary: Although Scar is now gone, life in the Pridelands is not easy.Nala must find a way to keep her family alive in the barren Pridelands, while dealing with the inexperience of the new king.Zira fled Pride Rock the night of the battle, but the hyenas did not care who they targeted. Now she fights to protect her family, even from her own Pride.From the new king to the frightened cubs, all must find their place in the Circle of Life.





	1. Allegiances

**Author's Note:**

> I've been watching a lot of documentaries lately, so I decided to try something new to escape writing block.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A who's who of the lion world.

**Pridelands**

**Main Pride: Simba**

**King:** Simba - handsome golden lion with red mane and orange eyes, son to Sarabi

 **Lead Hunter:**  Sarabi - stout brown lioness with dark ear rims and orange eyes, mother of Simba

**Pride-sisters:**

Zingela - pale brown lioness with green eyes and pale ear rims, sister of Sarafina

Naanda - lean, scruffy bright brown lioness with dark orange eyes, sister of Sarabi and mother of Zira and Sangiki

Dwala - small, stout, dark brown lioness with orange eyes, sister of Sarabi

Asali - lean golden lioness with red eyes, grand-niece of Ahadi and sister of Tama

Zira - lean, dusty brown lioness with red eyes, mate of Chumvi, daughter of Naanda, mother of Nuka, Kovu, and Zuberi

Nala - brown lioness with green eyes, daughter of Sarafina

Sangiki - bright brown lioness with blue eyes, daughter of Naanda and sister of Zira

**Trainee:**

Kula - reddish-brown lioness with red eyes

 

**Males:**

Chumvi - dark brown lion with golden eyes, mate of Zira and father of Nuka, Kovu, and Zuberi

**Cubs:**

Nuka - lean, brown lion with small black mane and orange eyes, son of Zira and Chumvi and brother of Kovu and Zuberi

Vitani - golden-brown lioness cub with violet eyes, daughter of Scar and Sarafina

Zuberi - dark brown lion cub with golden eyes, son of Zira and Chumvi and brother of Kovu and Nuka

Kovu - dark brown lion cub with green eyes, son of Zira and Chumvi and brother of Nuka and Zuberi

 

**Subpride: Sabini**

**Chief:**  Sabini - young, brown lioness with very pale eye rims and green eyes

 **Lead Hunter:**  Penda - dull brown lioness with green eyes, mother of Chumvi

**Pride-sisters:**

Chausiki - aging, pale golden lioness, grandmother to Laini and Kanzi

Laini - golden brown lioness with green eyes, sister to Kanzi and cousin of Sabini

Kanzi - golden brown lioness with brown eyes, sister to Laini and cousin of Sabini

**Males:**

Mega - pale brown lion with heavy brown mane and orange eyes, former consort and father of Sabini

Tojo - dark gold lion with green eyes and a pale mane, Sabini's mate

 

**Subpride: Mtoto**

**Chief:**  Mtoto - pale brown lion with red mane and green eyes

 **Lead Hunter:**  Kioni - golden-brown lioness with yellow eyes, Mtoto's mate  
TRAINEE: Shujaa

**Pride-sisters:**

Diku - golden-brown lioness with blue eyes and dark ear rims, former consort and Mtoto, Haiba, and Shujaa's mother

Malene - golden lioness with green eyes, Mtoto's aunt  
TRAINEE: Haiba

Imara - pale brown lioness with yellow eyes and pale ear rims, Malene's daughter

**Trainees:**

Haiba - pale brown lioness with green eyes

Shujaa - tall, brown lion with red mane and green eyes

**Cubs:**

Duni - small, brown lioness with green eyes and pale ear rims, Mtoto's daughter

 

**Lowlands**

**King:** Malka - bright brown lion with black-and-gold mane

 **Lead Hunter:**  Shwari - small dusty brown lion with dark brown mane

**Pride-sisters:**

Malika - golden-brown lioness with orange eyes, former consort

 

**Outlands**

**King:** Obayana - pale brown lion with pale blonde mane

 **Lead Hunter:** Doa - pale, dusty brown lioness with dots under both eyes and red eyes

**Pride-sisters:**

Subira - brown lioness with scruffy mane-like fur

Oma - brown lioness with pale orange eyes, one of which is a lazy eye

Nabila - dusty brown lioness with red eyes

 

**Savannahlands**

**King:** Zamr - golden-brown lion with dark brown mane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm considering removing descriptions, as those were mostly for me anyway.


	2. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New kings kill old cubs, or, at least, some do.

Rain still fell across the windswept landscape. The dead trees swayed in the wind, as the long-dry earth was overwhelmed and flooded. To the east, the great river of the land was reforming, carving a path through the land. From the grassland birds to the great crocodiles, the denizens of the Pridelands had long since sought cover from the storm.

"Zira?" Her name startled her from her reverie. A lion was hovering at the entrance to her den, highlit by a flash of lightening against the overcast sky, his mane plastered against his fur by the pelting rain. Bristling, she lifted her muzzle to scent the air, before recognizing the scent of her mate, and that of the hyena drifting from the meat in his jaws.

He lowered his head to duck into the entrance of the den, shaking the water from his fur as he stepped inside. Any traces of the Pride or the kill had been washed from him by the storm, and only the crisp scent of rain remained. Once he had dropped his catch at her paws, he looked toward the rear of the den. Zira knew that without the hyena stifling his senses, he could smell the heavy odor of blood and death that hung over the den.

They needed to move, but they could not. Instead of telling him that, Zira met his gaze steadily and asked, "what news from the Pride?"

He groomed his muzzle, as if to drive away the scent of the den, as he answered. "Dwala suffered the worst wounds in the battle, but Rafiki thinks she will live. Simba has banished the hyenas from the Pridelands once more, and some of the herds are braver now." His tail motioned to the food he had brought to her. "How are the cubs?"

Terrified. Zuberi was very weak, but still had night terrors. He had woken up more than once shrieking at imaginary hyenas. Each time he became less responsive to her, and she had taken to sleeping with him between her paws so she could hear his heartbeat. For a time, Vitani had asked after Akono every time she woke up, and even now it took a moment for her to remember sometimes. Zira's heart ached every time the light in her eyes died. Kovu had never lost a littermate, and so Zira had to explain to him what death was, and why he would never see Akono again. Now he was frightened to let Zuberi out of his sight.

And every time Zira closed her eyes, all she could see was the hyenas fighting over the cub they had torn into pieces. She only wished it was Shenzi she had killed, and not her weak little brother.

Zira had no words, but she could see the concern in her mate's eyes. "They are as well as could be expected. Is there any word of Tama?"

"Not yet." When Zira made no reply, he ventured, "But Asali is convinced she will return."

"Sangiki lost too much blood in the birthing, and her cubs are weak." Zira looked down at the cubs asleep against her side. Her sister had not admitted it, but Zira had lost cubs before. If they did not regain strength quickly, they would not last the next few days. "Vitani and Kovu escaped without injuries, but I can only keep Zuberi's wounds clean and pray to the Great Kings that he lives."

"Do you want me to fetch Rafiki for him?"

Zira drew back, teeth baring in a snarl, "better for him to die of his wounds than to be given to the new king."

It took the lion a moment to find his voice. "Zira, Simba isn't a cub killer. Rafiki could bind his wounds, he has herbs to help with the bleeding, he can pray over him… here, take the... food. We can talk once you and the cubs eat. Nala's sends what food we have."

Zira jerked away from the kill, furious. She had not thought she took a lion as her mate who could not even catch his own prey. "I'll not touch anything sent by a murderer."

"Nala didn't kill anyone!" He protested, bristling, but Zira had faced buffalo. She was not afraid of a lion.

"She brought that lion back to the Pride. If not for her, Akono and Scar would still be alive!"

"Simba is the rightful king!" The lion towered over Zira, curled around the cubs as she was, but the lioness did not flinch. Her mate was not frightening, and she knew him too well to worry that he would harm her.

She was so tired. Bearing cubs during a famine had been difficult, but hiding from her Pride-sisters weighed heavily on her. A heavy sigh escaped her. "You don't really believe that, do you? She and Tama go off to find someone to murder the King, and she just happens to find the dead prince? Don't be a fool, she's only claiming that to gain the support of the Pride."

"The hyenas killed Scar, not Simba. You saw it yourself!"

Zira had seen little. She had fallen while revenging Akono's death, and Scar had been surrounded by hyenas and fire. Her paws were still singed, and it was only Asali's efforts that had seen she and Zuberi to safety. When she returned to the den with her son, to tell her mate the horrors she had seen, he had vanished into the Pridelands.

"Under Scar's rule, the hyenas never attacked cubs. If Nala hadn't brought that lion to the Pridelands, Vitani would still have a littermate, and Zuberi wouldn't be hurt!"

"No, we'd just be starving!" He snarled.

"Did you expect Scar to control the weather?"

"I expected him to take the Pride east with the herds! To prevent the hyenas from overhunting! Your milk stopped when your cubs were four months old and I gave you most of my food!"

"You're blaming me for that?"

"No! I only mean-"

"I'm the only reason your cubs escaped the same fate as Akono! The hyenas tore him in-"

"Chumvi! Zira! You're frightening the cubs." The shadows in the depths of the den shifted, and a second lioness appeared.

Zira's eyes shifted to the cubs at her side. Two pairs of frightened eyes met hers, and she leaned forward to comfort the wide-eyed cubs. "Hush, little ones. It's only Chumvi. You're safe."

"Mum, is Zuberi going to die?" Kovu asked, shaking as her tongue rasped over his head, purring gently.

"No, Kovu. Your brother will be fine." Zira assured him gently.

"He's quiet and still," Vitani whispered, whiskers twitching madly. Her huge eyes looked up at Zira, "like Adaeze was before she died."

"He's recovering from his wounds. He needs to rest."

Chumvi shook his mane out as Zira spoke softly to the cubs, not quite able to meet Sangiki's blue eyes. The scent of death clung to her. "I brought food."

"Sangiki, we don't want a murderer's gift." Zira objected, but her sister took the kill Chumvi prodded toward her and crouched to eat.

"Yes, we do. I have to stay with my cubs, and you're still limping." Chumvi's eyes drifted to Zira, who hadn't stood the entire time he was present. Hyenas didn't die quietly, but the sting in her leg was far less of a concern than Zuberi's injuries. Zira glared back until he looked away. "What did Nala do with the dead?"

"Simba let the Pride eat as much of the hyenas as they wanted, and what couldn't be eaten by us he allowed scavengers to take. Sarabi ordered that Scar's remains be taken to the Valley of the Kings, as was his due."

Hyena tasted terrible, but Zira could not blame her Pride. It had been many months since they had had a proper meal. As Nuka slunk forward to eat, stretching the stiffness out of his joints, Zira asked. "And what of Akono?"

Vitani's head lifted at the question. Chumvi looked at the cub uncertainly, then looked at Zira and shook his head slowly. Zira understood. There had been nothing left to bury once the hyenas were finished.

Vitani straightened from sniffing at the kill, "what happened to my brother?"

"Akono was your father's heir, he would have been taken to lay beside his father in the Valley," Sangiki explained, before Zira could find words.

Vitani looked up at Chumvi, who quickly nodded in agreement. "That's right. The royal family is always buried in the Valley of the Kings."

"Does this mean that Vitani is queen now?" Nuka asked.

Sangiki paused in tearing meat from the carcass. Vitani and sat up slowly, huge eyes staring up at Zira. Nuka received no answer from his father, so he too turned to Zira.

"She is not queen yet, but she will be."


	3. A New King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simba is not Scar, and so his first decision is to listen to the hunters and abandon Pride Rock.

She is woken from her doze by a gentle nudge to her shoulder, and a quiet, ¨Nala?”

The lioness blinked the rain out of her eyes. The night had been cold and wet, and the rain had started several hours ago. The sky had not yet started to grow light, but Nala sat up immediately when she placed the voice. “What is it?”

Sarabi’s whiskers twitched in amusement at her alarm. “Nothing is wrong. Come up to the top of the rocks with us.”

Nala lightly shook her fur out and stretched the soreness out of her limbs before following the lioness out of the pitiful shelter the little grove of trees provided. As she passed Asali, the other lioness just falling back to sleep after her night vigil, she huffed. Nala understood why as she stepped out into the rain and was instantly soaked again.

Simba was perched atop the rocks they had sheltered against, eyes fixed on the dry grasslands to the west. When Nala followed his gaze, she found a single male lion approaching at a steady walk. He was downwind, but Nala knew him by sight. Sarabi joined them on the rock, utterly calm, but Simba was wide-eyed as he looked at his mother.

“What happens now?”

“Now you must wait for him to approach and find out what he wants. If we are lucky, he will offer an oath for himself and his mate. If we are not, then he will challenge you, and you must fight him.”

“But I don’t have to kill him?”

“No. If you win, he will leave. If he wins, then he can go before the subprides and try to convince them he should be king.”

“What if he refuses to leave?”

“Chumvi has never been dishonorable. If he challenges you and loses, I expect him to leave without protest.”

“Mum, if it’s that simple, why did no one challenge Scar?”

Sarabi sighed. “It is never that simple. Only a few lions are old enough to even consider such a challenge. Tojo’s leg would never permit him to win such a challenge, and if he attempted a challenge and lost then Scar would have killed him. And then he had a family to think of.”

“Everyone had a family to think of.” Simba insisted.

“Has anyone told you what happened to Ganya?” Nala asked. They had spent some time at Pride Rock, eating what they could and exchanging stories with Simba. He had told them about King Mufasa’s death, and they had told him about the famine. Hungry and impatient, the Pride hadn’t given him all the details.

“Mtoto’s brother? No. Why?”

“We have no proof…” Sarabi said, but hesitated in her explanation.

Nala took up the story. It was horrifying, but Simba must know what had happened if he was to understand the fear they had all lived under. “But it was rumored that the hyenas killed Ganya because he planned to challenge Scar.”

“Killing a challenger without a proper battle is against the Law,” Simba seemed shocked.

Sarabi was resigned. “Scar did many things that were against the Law.”

“He had an excuse,” Nala said, tail twitching. “It was not long after the death of my mother, and there were some who tried to blame the hyena for her death. They had no witnesses, and so Scar took it as an attempt to drive a wedge between himself and the hyenas. He dismissed Ganya’s death as the same.”

“After that none of the males would speak to Zazu about a challenge. If Scar would have one challenger murdered, why would he not murder another?” Sarabi admitted.

A silence followed. Nala and Sarabi had lived through the famine, but Simba must be given time to think about the crimes committed after he had fled. A low roar interrupted them. In the distance, Chumvi repeated the sound, and before Sarabi could offer advice Simba had returned the call. He leapt from the rock and moved toward Chumvi. Below them, the Pride had left their shelter to watch the proceedings.

Simba approached at a walk, allowing time for Chumvi to state his intentions. Once they were within several lengths of each other, Chumvi sat down heavily, before dramatically rolling over onto his back. Clearly not expecting such a clear submissive gesture, Simba paused. Nala’s whiskers twitched, but she resisted the urge to laugh. Chumvi had never been one for a fight.

Out in the grasslands, Chumvi had no such care. He laughed, whiskers moving as violently as Nala’s had, “com’on, Simba. Don’t tell me you don’t remember me?”

“You were only a cub last I saw you.” Simba pressed his head against Chumvi’s, and the younger male took it as an invitation to sit up.

“So were you! Ah, man, we missed you.”

“And I missed the Pride.” Simba admitted. “What are you doing here?”

Chumvi stepped back, separating himself from Simba, and lowered his head. “I’ve come to offer my services to King Simba. I’m gonna shield your back, keep your counsel, and give my life for yours if it’s needed. I swear it by the Great Kings.”

Simba stared at him so long that Chumvi opened one eye to peek up at him. Realizing the problem, Sarabi leapt from her position on the rock and trotted forward to her son’s side. She pressed her muzzle to his ear, and after a moment Simba spoke. “And I vow… that you shall always have a place in my Pride, and a share of my kills, and… I will ask no service of you that would bring you dishonor. I swear it by the Great Kings.”

Chumvi had snapped his eye closed the moment he noticed Sarabi’s approach, but now he straightened. “It‘s an honor. When Zira told me what happened I couldn’t believe it, but here ya’re, all grown up. Now that the formalities are out of the way, is there anything I can do to help?”

Sarabi took that as her queue. “Perhaps there is something you can do. Simba, do you know how to hunt?”

“I’ve never been the best, but I can hunt. Afra taught me in the jungle.”

Nala shook the water out of her pelt and trailed after Sarabi, while the lower ranked lionesses looked on from their position in the trees. “Who’s Afra?”

Simba’s ears flickered. “Afra is a leopard. She owned part of the jungle where I lived after Scar chased me out of the Pridelands. I was only a cub when I met her, and she had two cubs of her own, so she agreed to teach me how to hunt.”

“That’s surprising,” Sarabi said, “I’ve never met a leopard who didn’t want something.”

“In exchange, I helped protect her lands from other leopards.”

“So she wanted something from you,” Chumvi laughed, “Isn’t that how it always is? That’s why we don’t allow leopards in the Pridelands anymore.”

“My lack of hunting ability wasn’t her fault, it was Scar’s. Why should she teach me for nothing in return?” Simba protested.

“Even so, she was an adult and you were a cub. You needed to learn to hunt so you didn’t starve.” Sarabi said.

“And Afra needed to protect her cubs so they didn’t die. Besides, I had Timon and Pumbaa to take care of me.”

“A meerkat and a warthog aren’t suitable guardians for a cub.” Sarabi stated, ears flat against her head.

“Timon and Pumbaa saved my life.”

“They-”

“Are my friends-”

“Friends who stayed in the Pride’s den while we came to find food.”

“Because Naanda tried to eat them.”

“We haven’t had food in weeks!”

“There were hyena carcasses everywhere, but she would rather murder someone who helped us overthrow Scar.”

“Hyena tastes foul.”

“If not for them, the hyenas might have been eating her, because I’d be dead.”

“Who’re Timon and Pumbaa?” Sarabi and Simba’s heads snapped around at Chumvi’s question. Sarabi took a step back and smoothed her fur down, while Simba shook out his mane, ears flicking.

“Timon is a meerkat and Pumbaa is a warthog. They saved me from vultures in the desert and kept me alive long enough to learn how to hunt. They’re my friends.” Simba sounded somewhat desperate, but Chumvi shrugged that off.

“No problem. You’re the king, remember? Just pass a decree that no one can harm them.”

Simba blinked at him. “I can do that?”

“You’re the king,” Nala interjected, “and there’s precedence for it. It’s forbidden to harm a majordomo, and they are generally prey animals.”

“So I just… say that it’s forbidden?”

“Mufasa gathered all of the animals of the Pridelands together and gave the announcement there.” Sarabi explained.

“But there are no animals of the Pridelands right now,” Chumvi looked toward the border, where the scent of the oncoming herds drifted toward them.

“For now it is enough that the Pride knows.” Nala said. “Even most of the jackals and cheetahs are gone now.”

“You will have to tell them,” Sarabi said, “Once that is done, we can form a hunting party. Perhaps Chumvi could help show Simba how a Pride hunts together?”

“I thought kings were forbidden from hunting?” Simba asked. “Dad once told me that he didn’t hunt because he was expected to care for all the creatures in the Pridelands.”

“When prey is plentiful, that is true, but the Pride is starving any who are able must hunt. In the last drought, even Queen Uru took part in hunting parties.” Sarabi paused to look at Nala. “Will you take scouts along the border and see if any of the herds are within the Pridelands?”

“I’ll take Zingela and Asali,” Nala agreed.

“And if the herds are still on the other side of the gorge?” Chumvi asked.

“Then we must ask the lions of the Lowlands to hunt on their lands.” Sarabi replied. “Let us hope it doesn’t come to that.”

Nala followed as the older lioness began to make her way back to the Pride. Once the Pridelands and Lowlands had been allies, but as the drought went on the hyenas had crossed the borders to steal what little food they had. She could hardly blame them if they refused to allow yet more Pridelanders onto their lands.

The Pride began to move as they returned. Sarabi’s sisters came to meet her, and pressed along her side, purring loudly. When Nala sat beside Zingela, her aunt leaned into her shoulder. Her brief time in the jungle had provided far more prey than the Pride had seen in months, and, although Nala’s muscles had returned, she could feel Zingela’s bones through her skin, even after their hyena feast. The rest of the Pride looked no better.

“I have something to tell you,” Simba said, as the Pride closed around them, “I have decided that the meerkat and warthog that returned with me, the ones who helped us to defeat Scar, are under my protection. No one is to harm them.”

“Even if we are starving?” Dwala asked, from where she was pressed underneath Sarabi’s chin.

“Would you eat Zazu if you were starving?” Simba asked.

Dwala stared at him. “Zazu was King Mufasa’s majordomo. It is forbidden to eat him.”

“As it is forbidden to eat Timon and Pumbaa.” Simba declared.

When no one else spoke, Sarabi looked between her Pride-sisters. “Are there any more questions?”

The Pride was still, so Nala stood and nudged Zingela. “Asali, Zingela, come and scout the herds with me. Perhaps some have crossed the border.”

t was dangerous to hunt them so quickly, and so close to the Lowlands. The herds may decide it was too dangerous to cross again, but they had little choice. The Pride was starving and so Nala went. In the rain, it was difficult to tell just how close the Pride had stopped to the border. Just over the large ridge they found it, the reek of hyena combined with the markings of the Lowland’s guard. Scar had not patrolled in months upon months, but Nala found herself wondering if the faint scent of Mheetu’s patrols would still be there.

She shook the water out of her pelt and turned to her companions. Asali was staring mournfully across the border, but Zingela was scenting the air, searching for any sign of their prey. “It looks like the zebra might be within the border.”

Nala mimicked her gesture, drawing scent into her mouth and focusing on the zebra. “Asali, fetch the Pride. Zingela and I will sneak around to press them into the catchers.”

The grass was still short and dead, but Zingela was one of the Pride’s best stalkers and Nala was well fed. Together, they moved around the outside of the herd, careful to remain within their border, if only just. Once they were in position, they stilled and waited. The herd had not noticed them, too focused on the fresh grass next to the new water.

Normally, lionesses would take moments like these to talk, but Nala had been away for months while her aunt starved. She did not know what to say. It was Zingela who spoke first. “So, did you see any ghosts?”

For a moment, Nala did not reply. She had spent a great many nights pressed along the desert floor while sandstorms raged overhead, and, although it did not seem real now, each morning she would have sworn that she had heard voices in the winds. How many days had she spent following the tail-tip of a lion that she could never quite see? She would spend each evening convinced it was a mirage, only to trail a scent for miles the next morning. Eventually, she had come upon the oasis, and she had to wonder if it was a real lion that led her there or if a spirit had taken pity upon her. “I don’t think so. At least, I never saw them.”

Zingela’s pelt ruffled. “Perhaps it was a desert lion, then. There aren’t many of them this close to the mountains, but there are a few. I saw one, once. From the border.”

“What did it look like?”

“It was a male, but I only knew that by scent. He had no mane, his entire body was the same color. I only saw him for a moment. I think he was drawn in by our kill, but once he realized King Ahadi was there he turned and vanished among the sands.”

Nala looked over to her aunt. Her fur was a deeper tan than Nala’s, but her aunt had the same green eyes and sleek shape as her mother had. Although Nala was a better hunter, Zingela was the best tracker in the Pride. She had never had cubs of her own, but unlike Dwala she had entertained several partners, however briefly. “Zingela? Thank you.”

Zingela scoffed. “For what?”

“For saving me.”

“Saving you? Nala, you found King Mufasa’s dead son. You have saved us all.”

“If not for you, I’d never have been able to leave the Pridelands.”

The elder lioness’ ears were twitching violently. “You are my sister’s cub. I did only what Sarafina would have done.”

“Thank you, nonetheless.”

“Stupid cub. There, look.” Nala followed her gaze, ears lifting even as the rest of her remained completely still. Sarabi was just visible through the herd, and when their eyes met the old queen vanished into the trees.

Without a word, she and Zingela split up, moving closer to the herd as they cut off avenues of escape. It was Nala’s place to move first, as she held the higher rank, but she waited until she was sure everyone was in position. This was no time to lose her nerve, just as the first herd responded to the rain and crossed into the Pridelands. When they did break, Nala and Zingela together, the herd did just as they’d hoped and bolted toward the trees. In the commotion, Nala did not truly expect to make her own kill, but she still gave it all her strength. Her target was just beginning to outdistance her when the trees exploded and Chumvi had the creature by the neck.

An instant later, Simba was upon it as well, and together they knocked the zebra off its feet. Nala clamped her jaws over it’s nose, and, slowly, it’s struggles died. Once the zebra stopped moving and the dust settled, Nala sat up to find her Pride-sisters. There was always the chance that someone would be hurt during a hunt, and sometimes they would get lucky and catch more than one zebra.

That was not the case this time. Dwala and Sarabi hovered near a panting Naanda, waiting for their sister to collect herself, and Asali and Zingela were slowly walking back to the kill. As the rest of the Pride approached, Simba moved back, offering his place to the lionesses. “Here, mother, eat.”

Sarabi shook her head. “No. Those who made the kill eat first.”

“Technically, it’s cubs first. Then the king, then those who made the kill and the hunters, and last those who did not hunt,” Chumvi noted, mouth already bloody from tearing into their kill.

“We don’t have any cubs,” Simba pointed out, “and why should the king eat before those who hunt?”

“The king keeps the peace between all the animals,” Sarabi explained. “If not for the king, the herds may be over hunted or decide to leave the Pridelands. Because the king forgoes hunting to care for the Pridelands, the hunters feed him first.”

“That’s in times of hunger.” Naanda said, from her sister’s side. “When there is plenty, few would argue over who eats first.”

“And we do have cubs,” Chumvi’s voice was muffled by food, but he was clear enough.

Simba eyed him curiously, “we do?”

“Yeah, my three cubs, and the queen's one”

“One?” Nala demanded. “What happened?”

Chumvi swallowed hard to clear his mouth, and met her eyes. “The hyenas did. They killed Akono, and wounded Zuberi.”

Nala let go of the kill and sat up. Out of all the Pride, only Chumvi had seen Zira since the night Scar died, and Zira had the cubs. Nala had not known her siblings well, as Scar had kept them isolated after their mother’s death, but she still remember her mother’s happiness at their birth. None of the Pride moved to eat, and even Chumvi had the grace to pause in his meal. “I’m sorry, Nala.”

“Where- where is his body? He was Scar’s oldest cub, he deserves to be lain with his mother.”

“Zira wasn’t able to recover it. I thought maybe you-?”

“We collected every hyena left near Pride Rock, and ate what we could for strength.” Sarabi answered sharply. “There were no cubs. Zira was their watcher that night. She is responsible for them until we return.”

Simba pressed his muzzle against Nala, “I’m sorry about your brother.”

“It isn’t your fault,” she replied, pressing herself into his mane. “You didn’t bring the hyenas here or force them to attack defenseless cubs.”

Simba didn’t seem to know what to say to that. After a moment, he turned to the other male. “How old are the cubs?"

“The oldest is about seven. Vitani is three, and my youngest are barely a year old."

“Too young to join us."

"With less competition Zira can keep them fed." Sarabi said. "She is one of our best hunters."

“Good. She'll have fewer mouthes to feed without us nearby,” Simba glanced around at the Pride. “Here, the rest of you, come and eat with me.”

“Are you certain?” Sarabi asked.

Simba smiled at her. “I am the king, if I want to share my food I can.”


	4. Ashes Can Never Be Paper Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rain has returned but the herds have not. Zira hunts least the cubs starve, but it may already be too late.

>  

Many years ago, Queen Uru had arranged with the Kusini Pride to betroth the daughters of their princess to her sons. It was tradition for a royal cub to have a betrothal arranged, and her son’s had fallen through. The arrangement benefited both prides. It allowed the Kusini access to the river in Uru's Pridelands, and arranged a suitable queen for the future king. Out of the four sisters, Sarabi was the best hunter, and thus was betrothed to the eldest prince, Mufasa. Her eldest sister, Naanda, was betrothed to his younger brother, and a third sister was soon wed to the future chief of one of the Pridelands' subprides, in an effort to tie the sisters to the Pridelands and ally their prides for the foreseeable future.

The lands of the Kusini Pride were to the south of the Pridelands, closer to the Great Desert. Dry seasons were longer and harsher there, and for much of the year the only thing to hunt was buffalo. These conditions bred large, clever lions who would never pass up a chance to eat during the dry season. In their youth, the sisters had learned to hunt everything from hares to elephants. In the lush Pridelands, their hunting tactics were little use, but never forgotten.

It was a story that Zira had heard many times. The knowledge of her mother’s pride had led to Zira’s current hunt. The lioness lay at the edge of a large hole that she had painstakingly carved into the grasslands. Her fur was covered in mud up to her stomach, and every inch of her was soaked from the rain. Exhausted, she wanted nothing more than to go back to her den and clean the rain from her fur so she could sleep, but she had the cubs to think of. Zira had lost her milk with her first litter of cubs, and remembering it still made her feel helpless. The last thing she wanted was for it to happen again.

The water flooded over the edge of the hole, soaking the newly-revealed earth as it fell into the burrow. As the earth turned from a dull grey to a deep brown, Zira tried to recover her breath. From this position, she could hear her target below as it splashed through the rising water and tried in vain to find an escape. Zira had long since stopped trying to rid herself of the water. It had not rained so long in her life. Even the storms of the wet season usually lasted only a few hours, and this rain had not let up for days. The creature had been so single-minded in its determination to escape her that it had trapped itself in a flooding burrow. Once it had no other choice, it would likely try to flee past her, but it mattered little to her if her food died by her claws or the flood.

Once she deemed the next layer of ground wet enough to break apart, she heaved herself up and began to dig again. The largest warthog she had ever seen weighted 150 kg, and if she was lucky this one may be fattened on the new grasses and weigh nearly half that. Panting, water splashing across her fur with every pawful of mud she freed from the ground, she worked her way through the earth, determined to return home with something to show for her day. As she closed in, frightened squeaks elevated to squeals, and then, screaming, the warthog fled the safety of its burrow.

Zira was one of the Pride’s best hunters, but she felt a jolt of panic at the unexpected movement. Aside from the flighty gazelles this was the only prey she had seen in days. On instinct, one of her paws flashed forward, into the path of the warthog. Her claws were sharp enough to open the hide of a buffalo. The warthog stood no change. It screeched in pain, twisted backward by her strength. Before it could recover, she was upon it, her jaws crushing the breath from it. A clean kill was required by the Law, but it also reduced the risk of being found. The attention of wandering hyenas would not be appreciated.

It was not a large warthog, but it was enough to feed two lionesses, and cubs who were only gnawing at the meat. Once it stopped breathing, she made brief work of its hide. It had been a hard hunt, and she was tempted to tear into the soft organs first. Instead she settled for the tougher muscles. Nuka would appreciate having something he could eat, as his teeth had not come in yet. She ate quickly, looking about for threats often. Even the gazelles were gone now. Her only company was another warthog, who had watched the scene from afar, unable to assist but unwilling to abandon its friend.

Eating had given Zira her strength back, and taken some of the weight from her kill. It was enough to make the trek back to the den easier. The rain still fell. Zira was starting to become concerned for the cubs. She was starting to become concerned for the cubs. It had been two days since the rain started, and even at their beginning the ground had been parched, unable to soak up the amount of water that was flooding onto it. Flash floods still occurred, but much of the ground was now covered in water. While the water had not gone so high as the den in even the days of King Mohatu, it was steadily rising toward the entrance.

As she neared the den, she found Sangiki waiting for her just inside, where the rain could not reach. When Zira dropped the carcass at the edge of the den, she started. “Good hunting?”

“The rain came too suddenly. There is nothing but gazelle on the plains. I think some of them have fawns, but I could not find them in this rain. Unless you wish to hunt hippo, there is little to find.” Zira replied. She shook out her coat, hoping to keep the cubs dry, and sat in the very entrance of the den to clean the remainder of it from her fur.

“You should not hunt the fawns.”

Zira frowned. Killing young animals was against the Law of the Great Kings. They were the future of the herd, and it was better to let them grow old enough to have young of their own before targeting them. The only exception was in the worst of the dry season, when the only other choice was to starve. “ There is nothing else. I would sooner they die than my cubs.”

Sangiki’s eyes were bright. “My- the male cub. He has- he’s dead.”

Oh. Zira stilled to consider her sister. Sangiki’s ribs were visible through her skin. Her fur was dull and matted, and the scent of death still clung to her. Zira knew the pain of losing a cub. One cub from her first litter, Tunuka’s sibling, had died shortly after Zira had lost her milk. Four years later she still felt the loss. Her pelt was still wet, but she did not think Sangiki would mind, so she shifted to curl up against her sister. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know what happened. He was the stronger of the two, just starting to open his eyes. I went to sleep, and he was fine. When I woke up he wouldn’t respond to anything. What did I do?”

“You didn’t do anything. You cannot control the herds, Sangiki.”

“I was the one who got pregnant in the drought. I didn’t plan to have cubs, but I wanted… I wanted them. I let them starve.”

“You did not, anymore than I let Adaeze starve. Is the other cub alive?”

“The lioness is weak. Perhaps with the food her brother was taking she will survive until the herds return.”

“Have you begun the rituals?”

“How can I? If I leave my other cub she may die as well.”

Zira hesitated. After her cub’s death, Queen Sarafina had offered to nurse Tunuka, and despite her hatred for her father’s new mate, Zira had had little choice. It had saved her son’s life, but she still thought that part of their bond had been broken because of it. She did not want that for Sangiki. “Leave her with me. I will watch over her until you return.”

“What if I do it wrong? Chumvi said the Pride went east… Zira, what if no one comes? And there are no herds, what will I offer to the ancestors? He is too young to wait weeks for them.” Her sister’s fear rolled over Zira, the scent of it unsettling.

Once, Zira had asked their mother the same questions. She did not feel she should be guiding Sangiki in this, but there was no one else. Of them, Zira was the elder and she must provide the aid that should rightfully come from the eldest lionesses in the Pride. Zira did not feel like a leader, but she offered what advice she had. “You could go east, and follow the baboon troop, or search for the fawns. You may have more success than I did. Summon those who will come at dusk, and then hunt for an offering. You do not need to worry about the ritual until you have made a kill. I will call for you if someone answers. Otherwise, once you have skinned your kill and finished the ceremony, you should eat it.”

Sangiki pressed her head against Zira’s, purring hoarsely. “Thank you, sister. I will not forget this.”

“Foolish cub. Go before the sun sets.” As her sister ducked through the entrance to the den, Zira remembered. “What did you name the lioness cub?”

“I have not.” With that, she was gone, and Zira was alone.

She wanted to lay her head on her paws and cry. For her little sister and lost nephew, for the little half-brother she could not save from the hyenas, for Vitani’s fright when she heard the distant whoop of the hyena clan, and for her wounded son. Zira was the oldest lion here. She was the only one who had led a hunting party, and the one responsible for leading them here. Those who had come with her were her responsibility to care for.

With a calm she did not feel, Zira dragged the warthog further into the den. She rested it along the rear wall of the outer den before she nudged her muzzle through the tree roots which blocked the view deeper into the den. “Tunuka. Come and eat.”

He appeared a moment later, eyes wide as he took in the kill. The familiarity with which he bounded forward made Zira’s feel as if she had failed him. She had tried her first bite of meat at five years old. Scar had killed a kudu, just on the edge of adulthood, and presented it to her. Naanda had torn it open and given her the best bits, neither adult touching the food until Zira had eaten her fill and fallen asleep at Asali’s side. Her son had been presented with the haunch of a giraffe before he was two years old, and had struggled to eat it with his grandmother’s aid. Nearby, Rafiki had hovered over a distraught Zira, mummering in an old tongue and gently pressing on her stomach.

“Is this all for me?” Tunuka’s question drew her back from her thoughts. He sniffed along the edge of the ribcage, then ducked his head through the hole in its hide to pluck the liver from the carcass. Her son was a sweet cub, thinking of others when he was half-starved, so used to hunger that he thought nothing of sharing what little he had with others.

“You should eat as much as you can.” Zira replied, sharper than she had intended. She ducked through the tree roots. Just beyond them, Vitani was awake and sitting over Kovu and Zuberi. When she recognized Zira, she relaxed her posture. Instead of stopping, Zira continued into the depths of the den. Sangiki’s lair was heavy with the smell of death, but she had already removed the male cub’s body in an effort to keep his sister healthy.

The lioness cub was tiny. Her fur was pale, her eyes not yet open, and dark ear rims still lined her ears. She was small enough that she could fit inside of Zira’s mouth, and so she was careful when she picked her up. Zira returned to the larger den, setting the cub next to Kovu and letting her bury into her fur. As the cubs began to nurse, Zira rested her head on her paws, hoping to sleep at least a few hours.

Outside, through the crisp night air, she could hear the beginning of Sangiki’s mourning. Her sister’s wailing roars filtered into the den, a outpouring of emotion into the storm. Soft paws pressed against her fur as Vitani stopped eating and sat up to listen to the roars. Zira did not have the energy to chide her, and so they sat in the stillness of the den long into the night, listening to a mother’s grief.


End file.
